She could not believe it
and could not write it if she tried.
All her careful planning,
had been casually swept aside.
But she was exactly where she wanted
and le granouille had been frapped
even if the route to get there
was not the one she had so precisely mapped.
She had to laugh though
as she took one last look and then threw away her meticulous plan.
Too many variables to calculate,
too many different folk,
too many different rythms
too many ghostlike jokes.
To think that she had tried to lay a framework on this madness,
when all the plan had ever been was a starting point,
Copyright Faramond Frie © 2016